


The Capacity To Soak Up Pain Like A Sponge

by relievedeyebrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relievedeyebrow/pseuds/relievedeyebrow
Summary: Harmony Potter, The Girl Who Lived. God, she hated that self-righteous title. Suffering at the hands of terrible nightmares, and foiling the assassination attempts of rouge Death Eater's, Harmony ventures into her 'eight' year at Hogwarts with quite a full plate. Add some teenage angst, a complicated love life, and insane fame to that cauldron of problems ... What could possibly go wrong? Join Harmony as she attempts to lead a semi-normal life. Hogwarts, here she comes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posted once before but I disliked the plot, so I deleted the story and have rewritten the parts I disliked. English is not my first language, therefore I apologise for any mistakes. I am looking for a beta reader and if anyone would like to volunteer then please send me an inbox. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Rating: T

_The storm had ebbed into nothingness, now the silence was as pure and vast as the cloak of Night eclipsing them._ _Harmony knew that she had kept him temporarily mesmerised and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that she might indeed know of a final secret._

_They had spoken in quips: of Snape, of Dumbledore, of The Elder Wand. Now a deed must be done, a prophecy must be fulfilled. They both tread along a tightrope, waiting desperately for a strong breeze to sway them one way or the other. Towards life. Towards death._

_Harmony twitched the hawthorn wand in her hand, and she felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it._

" _It all comes down to this, does it?" A nearby fire enflamed Harmony's cheeks. Her tantalizing whisper claiming the breath of every person inside the hall. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true master of the Elder Wand."_

_A golden haze erupted along the enchanted sky above them. Harmony could identify the uniqueness of each slither of light conveyed to Earth from the beautiful scarlet-tinged sky, acting as rose-tinted shafts gracefully sent from the heavens. The light hit both of their faces, so that all Harmony could see was an indistinguishable fiery blur. Voldemort's silhouette burning away with the first light of day._

_She heard a high voice shriek as she, too, yelled her best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

" _Expelliarmus!"_

Three sharp knocks echoed off the wooden panels of Harmony's door. Adrenaline wracked through her body and she shot upright. Her eyes snapped open wide, feigning alertness, instinctively drawing her wand from underneath her pillow, and waving it blindly in the direction of the noise.

The light above her bed flickered on immediately, and Harmony sighed thankfully, taking in her empty bedroom.

"Calm down, Harmony." She whispered to herself. Wiping away the beads of sweat dancing on her forehead. "Bad dream."

Heavily panting, Harmony sat quiet and still for several moments, forcing her rapid heartbeat to normalize. She first became aware of the heat in the air and its stale fragrance. Unlike the Greek God Apollo, Harmony had not risen early, pushing the tangled duvet onto the floor with a resounding "Swish!", and glancing to an old rustic clock: 11:57 AM.

Aside from traffic outside, there was nothing to be heard and the room was simply too dark to see much at all, her only source of light belonging to a sliver of sunlight that had miraculously penetrated its way through a hole in the thick drapes. Another round of loud knocks had Harmony's body lock into place, her grip nice and firm on the wooden structure of her wand. Her breathing became erratic, before she realized the wards had not been broken. It could only be one person – or rather – creature.

"Come in."

The lack of a decent night sleep taunted Harmony as she managed small, weak steps closer to the door. The cool temperature of the floor tiles brought a temporary comfort as it contacted her scolding skin. The cold, however, did little to prevent Harmony's mind from racing. It had been only a week since Voldemort's demise. It had been only a week since Harmony became a murder.

Now, the dictionary defines murder as "the unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another." One could certainly argue whether the remnants of Tom Riddle were, in fact, human or not. Nevertheless, Harmony had indeed taken a life-

"Mistress Potter!"

Her train of thought derailed, Harmony eyed the ugly, albeit bold house elf striving towards her. An arm outstretched, and a clean sheet of parchment clasped tightly between two fingers.

"You have received a letter from M-Mistress Granger."

"Thank you, Kreatcher." Harmony accepted the parchment apprehensively, then cast the house elf a smile. "Is that all?"

"'It'll be scrambled eggs for breakfast, Ma'am."

Kreatcher produced a low, swoonful bow, the tip of his croaked noise piercing the carpet. Harmony blinked. He disappeared.

Once again alone, Harmony cast a jaundice glance to the group of merry muggles frolicking unwittingly beneath her window. Number 12 Grimmauld Place was a dark place, unfit to serve as a home, but it was the only one Harmony had ever truly known.

Sighing, Harmony broke the seal on the envelope, unfolding the parchment delicately.

_Dear Harmony,_

_Things aren't quite the same at The Burrow. You're not here. Fred's not here. Lupin and Tonks are not here. It's quite nearly all the time._

_The Weasley's are grieving. I am, too. It has been a difficult time for us all. I believe the only thing that could perhaps make it easier is if you had come back with us. Alas, I understand your desire to be alone. We all do._

_Since our letters arrived for Hogwarts things are beginning to look up. I'm thankful for that. Although I must admit, being an 'eighth year', as Ron has taken to calling it, will be quite strange. But I look forward to seeing you and finishing our education together. A fresh start will do us all good._

_Perhaps you'll be able to meet up with Ron, Ginny and I? We can shop for supplies together._

_We miss you. Don't do anything stupid._

_All the best,_

_Hermione._

**ΣΣ**

Draco Malfoy stepped into the bathroom, locking the door silently behind him. He turned the dial to an engraved basin, an old metallic stub of silver, and released a thousand droplets of lukewarm water. He sighed, seizing a bottle of soap, desperate to massage the dirt and grease off his pale hands.

He hated Azkaban. He hated visiting Lucius. He hated the need to scrub the invisible blood off his hands every single time he left that forsaken place.

Part of Draco desired the potential everlasting imprisonment of Lucius. Part of him wanted the man to suffer – suffer as Draco had under the hand of The Dark Lord – to feel as hollow and empty as he when charged with killing the old man: Dumbledore. Though he had been spared the burden of performing such a soul-leeching task, curtsy of Professor Snape, Draco had not felt as vibrant as he once had. All he had done – however unwilling – in the name of Lord Voldemort had scarred him more than words could possibly describe. It had blackened his heart, his soul. And it was all Lucius's fault.

Draco unbuttoned the cufflink holding the velvet fabric together and folded up the sleeve of his right arm, until it embraced his elbow. The Dark Mark had become distorted, torn open wide as Tom Riddle perished, and in its place left behind a maze of pink damaged flesh, unbelievably bright next to the untouched porcelain skin.

"Dragon?" Narcissa called, loud but still gracious. "Where are you, dear? An owl has arrived. It brings news of your father."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harmony Potter, The Girl Who Lived. God, she hated that self-righteous title. Suffering at the hands of terrible nightmares, and foiling the assassination attempts of rouge Death Eater's, Harmony ventures into her 'eight' year at Hogwarts with quite a full plate. Add some teenage angst, a complicated love life, and insane fame to that cauldron of problems ... What could possibly go wrong? Join Harmony as she attempts to lead a semi-normal life. Hogwarts, here she comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: English is not my first language, therefore I apologise for any mistakes. I am looking for a beta reader and if anyone would like to volunteer then please send me an inbox. Hope you enjoy.

“Look! That’s Harmony Potter!"

“Did you hear about Lucius Malfoy?”

“Has she always been that attractive?”

A cascade of voices spoke in unison, barely intelligible words, echoing shouts. Plumes of breath billowed out, before quickly dissipating in the cool dusk air.

Harmony had once believed there was something magical about being one of a crowd, an easing to the loneliness within. How rare it was for her to be so concealed, invisible to curious glances and pointing fingers. She had become reliant on the protective embrace of friends, company, to keep her hidden.

Only here, now, her company had become as famous as she. The star-stuck, wonderous stares were becoming exceedingly more difficult to escape. No matter who walked by her side.

In the daytime, the station was a seething mass of humanity. Everyone minced tightly together, shoulder to shoulder, in each other’s faces, no personal space. Try as she might, Harmony could not avoid the adorning stares, though she slid through the crowded station as efficiently as a deer in a thicket.

 “Hello, Harmony!”

“Neville.” Dispelling a set of vivid images; Hogwarts Students tied ungraciously to the platform lanterns, shrill with humiliation, Harmony smiled flawlessly at Neville Longbottom. “It's great to see you.”

“Goodness.” He remarked in dry amusement, devoid of confidence as he shied behind her body, concealed from all the sharp stares. “How do you handle it, Harmony?”

“They're not staring at me. Or rather, only at me.”

A student pressed an ache-covered cheek upon a panel of glass aboard the Hogwarts Express. Eyes wide and dominated by pure fascination and awe. Neville leapt back.

“What?”

Harmony laughed. “You helped, Neville. While I was, well, you know, ‘dead’, you were the only one willing to stand up and defeat Voldemort.” Gently, she braced Neville’s back, a gesture of goodwill. “They admire you, Neville. Welcome to the club.”

They soon discovered the bliss silhouette of an empty compartment, based at the very end of the train to distance an anxious Neville from a flock of over-excited third years. Harmony exchanged an amused glance with Neville as Ron and Hermione caught their scent, ceasing all sense of disagreement; both sets of lips locked firmly together, an air of tension thick on their person. The pair had yet to define exactly what it was they were. It made certain endeavours particularly … uncomfortable. Especially when one of the two received rather special - though certainly unwanted - attention from a member of the opposite sex.

“Ron. Hermione.” Harmony greeted with a lick of amusement. “How are you both today?”

“Good.”

“Peachy.” Ron forced his suitcase into an uneven space, dangling dangerously off the rack. “Absolutely bloody peachy.”

**ΣΣ**

 “Oooooh … Look who’s decided to grace Hogwarts with their presence!” Seamus Finnegan’s mischievous smile immediately alarmed Hallie, but she accepted his embrace all the same. “I’ve officially lost the bet.”

She laughed. “All Hermione’s doing, I assure you. She’d have killed me if I tried to bail on our last year together.”

His face became sympathetic. “Oh, Ron has it a hell of a lot worse. Blimey! Everyone on the train heard. They fight like an old married couple!”

“Oh, dear Seamus.” She patted his shoulder. “You have no idea.”

Hogwarts had been rebuilt quickly. There were still some minor adjustments to make, but otherwise, it was perfectly habitable. It had to be. The school term had already been pushed back a month, they could not afford to start the year any later. Just because they had suffered, did not mean they could forget to live. The Ministry of Magic wanted everything to go back to normal, whatever that was like, as quickly as wizardly possible.

But no matter how damaged Harmony’s home had become, certain things remained the same. The odour of lemon-scented bleach, for example, curled from under the restroom doors, depressingly mixed with boyish body odour. Portraits hung carelessly on the brick walls, overcrowded, but their animated faces alight with glee nevertheless, excited to see a new generation of wizards come to Hogwarts.

It warmed Harmony’s heart that not everything had been taken – no matter how trivial, no matter how important.

“Woah.” Neville whispered. “Amazing.”

Hermione smiled. “The professors have been working on it all summer. They even asked a few students to start the term early for additional help.”

Ron snorted. “That’s brilliant.” He elbowed Harmony and smirked. “Let someone else do all the work for once.”

Harmony took in the beautiful recreation of her home, though her musings shifted focus as her eyes caught an unfamiliar sight. A group of teenagers had gathered together in a circle just outside of The Great Hall. From body to body they pressed together tightly, making it impossible to see what it was they were so eager to hide. If Harmony strained, very, very hard, she could make out loud, hostile words mixed together with an upbeat harmony; music. One of Fred and George’s inventions no doubt, banned by Flinch a year prior.

That in itself wasn’t what Harmony found odd … it was the colour of their robes. Two blue, two yellow, one red, three green. At least one student for every house at Hogwarts. All together. Harmoniously.

“Oh,” Harmony laughed. A smile curved her lip as she transferred her gaze to a Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor march out of the bathroom together, arm-in-arm. “Would you look at that? Certainly an improvement.”

Seamus smirked. “Yes! Ooooh … I plan on taking advantage of that. Look at all the fresh meat!”

“Come on.” Hermione sighed. She seized the scruff of Seamus’s neck and tugged. “We don’t want to miss the sorting.”

The hallway remained as broad and straight as ever, like an old canal that cut through a town. It had little turn offs every so often, but ultimately, it offered you two choices: The Great Hall or the staircase.

Simultaneously, Harmony, Ron and Hermione walked into The Great Hall, Neville and Seamus hesitantly following behind as they blushed a previously unknown shade of magenta at the attention they both received. It amused Harmony greatly. Since day one, Seamus liked to tease her about the attention she garnered. My, my, how the tables had turned.

Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, Harmony ignored the blatantly obvious stares and focused on the High Table. Fortunately, she was greeted by a family of familiar faces: Professor Flitwick, Trelawney, Sitinstra, Hagrid, lord, even Slughorn had returned. The only difference, one that would take a very long time before she became accustomed to seeing it, was Professor McGonagall, stood before the majestic owl podium, patiently waiting for silence.

“Ron, be quiet!” Hermione berated, her hazel orbs locked onto the door as she watched a tribe of young students enter.

The Sorting Hat was as loud and preposterous as usual; fiercely defending each house, before then demanding unity. Harmony saw the younger students writhe uncomfortably, far less open to the idea – they had not been permitted to fight during the war, they did not share the same bond that cemented the elder’s relationships, uncaring of house placement. Slytherin and Gryffindor, that would forever be a tender pairing, but they had improved none-the-less.

The Sorting itself started, and Harmony faced Ron, who was equally disinterested.

“I don’t care what that hat says. I will never be ‘chummy’ with a Slytherin.” He barked, a side-eye glance to the Slytherin table, which had noticeably fewer occupants than last year.

Harmony laughed. “I won’t hate them, not anymore, but I won’t actively try to befriend them.” She tilted her head. “This millennium old grudge is rather stupid, but it cannot be helped. It’s how it has always been.”

“You’re right, Harmony. And to think, had Gryffindor not shunned Slytherin so heavily - Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, too – then perhaps we wouldn’t have lost so many to the Dark Side.” The bushy brunette leaned forward, then placed her elbows on the table. “We judged them. So, they abandoned us. I understand why.”

Ron let his head drop onto the table. A startled second-year on their table flinched at the abrupt “thump!” and very nearly fell off the bench.

"Oh, 'Mione. Please don't. I’d never forgive you if you buttered-up to the Snakes!" He cried.

Fortunately, Hermione did not have to dignify that with a response, as the distinct sound of nervous footsteps caught her attention, and her vibrant orbs locked onto the entrance of The Great Hall as a second batch of students entered.

All of them - every single one - looked up as they entered. Harmony smiled. She could relate. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that The Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Seamus laughed as a clearly anxious boy caught his left foot, and like a stack of dominos, took to the floor a large portion of the tribe.

"Did we look like that?" He asked. "They look absolutely terrified!"

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall was as Harmony remembered, back straight, eyes set, detached and calculated. It certainly unnerved the younger students, but for Harmony, it was a relief - too much had changed, so it was nice to see someone who had not.

"Applebee, Benjie."

Tentatively, a boy stood and sat carefully on the lone stool.

"Me? I am all for it. Like I said," Seamus laughed, an eye on the Slytherin table. "We become buds with Slytherin, there'll be loads more fresh meat! Can't deny that, can you, Ron?"

Ron stared at Seamus, undeniably unimpressed. "Yes."

Harmony laughed. “Who are you looking to grab, Seamus? Pansy, or Millicent?”

Mid-way, Seamus inhaled his Pumpkin Juice and choked so loud Professor McGonagall had to stop for a moment. She sent a hard look his way, then continued.

**ΣΣ**

Near the head of the Slytherin table, a well-put-together brunette let out a disgusted scoff. “No, that is vile. I’d rather bed a Hufflepuff than befriend a Gryffindor.”

“Oh, Pansy. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Ha. You want to play nice, to butter up to the Lions? You – Blaise Zabini – actually _want_ to befriend Potter and Co?”

Blaise looked at Pansy. His hazel orbs as cool as the Pacific. “No, I don’t want to.” He carefully lay an unused knife onto the Slytherin crest, before gently unwrinkling the cloth. “Although … You cannot deny, our fud with Gryffindor has persisted over the years, but where has it gotten us? Exactly nowhere. What do you think? Malfoy, Goyle?”

Draco lifted his heavy lids and stared at Blaise, placid. With a paper-white hand, he flicked a strand of hair away that had fallen in front of his face, then bushed a couple of miscellaneous crumbs from the table.

“Mother has already asked for a display of … civility. Of course, I agreed. She and I, we’re under surveillance, and by extension, you are, too.”

“Oh?”

“Father has temporarily returned, you see, courtesy of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Just for a day or two, then he’ll be taken back to Azkaban until the day of the trail.” Draco’s voice remained calm and steady. “I do not know if I should be gratified by the Minister’s bold choice, or if I should berate him for his idiocy.”

“See! We have a reason. Come, Pansy. I’ll even let you bed a Hufflepuff to make up for it.”

Goyle bit onto a chicken bone, confused when he noted the edible content had already been consumed. “Enthusiastic, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be stupid, Goyle.” Draco snorted ruefully. “Ms Zabini has been put up for a big promotion in The Ministry. The Department of Regulation is very much involved in Hogwarts. It would look marvellous on her behalf, if our Blaise here, promoted a union between Slytherin and Gryffindor.”

"And let's be honest. That grand promotion? How easy it would be for Ms Zabini to lure in husband number seven."


End file.
